


You're safe with me.

by martinnn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Daddy Kink, Lance is fragile, M/M, Porn With Plot, Shiro is a good boyfriend, Yikes, blah blah underage because they're cannon aged, lots of feelings, this is so sensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 08:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13185897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martinnn/pseuds/martinnn
Summary: Shiro is Lance’s safe haven. <3





	You're safe with me.

**Author's Note:**

> you know, typically i'm a sheith kinda guy, but [this drawing](http://jaspurrlock.tumblr.com/post/158366948737/shiro-is-lances-safe-haven-3) messed me UP.  
> characters are of cannon age. if you're going to throw a fit about it, please leave.

The first time was an accident… he thinks. 

It was after a difficult mission and there was more than one instance where Lance thought they’d almost lost Shiro. So, when after a few hours of slow and heavy sex, Lance had laid curled against Shiro, tears unshed in his eyes, and mumbled a soft, “Thank you. I love you, Daddy.”

Shiro had shifted to look down at him. “Hmm? What’d you say, baby?”

Lance just shook his head and burrowed deeper into Shiro’s chest. “‘s nothing. I just-- you really scared me today.”

Shiro chuckled and tightened his hold on the boy. “C’mon now. Do you really think I’d leave you so easily?”

Lance shook his head, but then paused. If Shiro knew about Lance’s issues with his family, if he knew about his problems with dependency… would he really want to stay? Lance forced these thoughts out of his head. He would just have to watch his mouth. 

Now, for any other person, that might have been easy. But Lance was quickly finding out that he was Lance freaking McClain and he was bold and he went with his gut and nothing ever slowed down enough in his head. 

And the way Shiro was rolling his hips forward currently was leaving Lance breathless. “Hah-- hah… fuck… fuck! Shiro!”

Shiro panted above him, propped up on his hands. “You like that, baby? Feel good? God--”

Lance threw his head back, hooking his arm over his eyes in ecstasy. His blush had spread down his whole body, nerves alight and brain foggy. So foggy that the babble coming from his mouth wasn’t really processing in his head. “S-Shiro, harder, please, please more, da-- no fuck, Shiro.” _His name is Shiro, Lance._

But the older man’s grunts spurred him on. With a few more well timed thrusts to that one special bundle of nerves, Lance was melting. His hand left his face to instead scramble for purchase on Shiro’s back. His nails left light pink grooves into already scared skin. He cried. “Shiro! Fuck!” There were hot tears in his eyes. His brain was fried. He just let go. He couldn’t stop. “Shiro! Fuck! Daddy!” He almost choked.

Shiro did choke. He stopped moving immediately and Lance’s arms fell over his face again. Now the tears were really there. They ran down his face as Lance shook his whole head and body. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Fuck. I didn’t mean it. It just slipped out, please don’t be mad. It was an accident. I--”

He was cut off by a low chuckle and his blood went cold. Shiro was laughing. Shiro was laughing _at him._ Lance was expecting anger or disgust but this was so much more worse. “Shiro… Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry about?” Warm, strong hands rubbed over the arms that hid his face, slowly trying to pull them away. 

Lance shook his head. He didn’t want to see Shiro’s face, he didn’t want Shiro to mock him, didn’t want the inevitable banishment and shame that was surely coming. 

“Hey, Lance, come on baby, don’t be like that. Look at me.”

It took another moment of convincing, but eventually Lance let his arms be pulled away from his face and his wet lashes pulled apart as he opened his eyes. He still wouldn’t meet Shiro’s face, his eyes stayed downcast and his bottom lip stayed between his teeth. There was a hand on his cheek, a warm, human hand. Another sob caught in his throat.

“Baby… I’m sorry for laughing. I wasn’t laughing at you. Come on, dry your eyes now. I’m not mad. I’m not upset at all. Look at me, baby.”

Shiro’s word reached him through cluttered thoughts and Lance’s eyes eventually shifted to meet the man’s. Dark grey irises were soft and gentle as they looked over his face. “Baby boy, don’t be ashamed. I’m proud of you… For showing me that part of you. Does that make you feel better? To call me that?”

Lance swallowed thickly and nodded.

Shiro’s smile was nothing but gentle, his eyes soft. “Do you like to be my baby boy?”

Lance nodded with that thick lump still in his throat. He quirmed a bit on the bed, Shiro’s cock still buried inside him and initial shame slowly dissipating. 

“Do you want daddy to take care of you?”

Lance’s last nod was more enthusiastic. He let out a small purr and his hips shifted again.

Shiro showed him a soft grin and wrapped his arms around Lance’s torso. He pulled them up into a sitting position, chest to chest. Lance’s legs fell to either side of Shiro’s hips and he sank down fully on Shiro’s cock. Shiro captured his lips in a hot tangle of tongue and teeth. His hands wiped tears from Lance’s face. “Good boy,” he purred. “You’re such a good boy for me. You can let go now. I’ve got you, darling.”

So Lance does. His muscles slowly unfurl and he relaxed as Shiro took control, one arm around his back and the other cupping his ass. Shiro rocks up steadily, moving Lance’s weak body with his thrusts. Lance has to cover his mouth with his hand, overcome with emotion. Shiro’s palms are warm and large and comforting as they hold Lance like anchors. He is no longer lost at sea. Shiro is here. Daddy is here. He is held.

“D-Daddy…” Lance pants out, a whisper against the palm of his hand. 

Shiro’s lips have found his neck. He lathers the tan skin with kisses and kitten licks. “It’s okay, baby,” he hums. “You can say it, darling. You’re safe with me.”

Lance hiccups into his hand and almost chokes again. “Da-Daddy, oh.”

Shiro rolls his hips and hits that spot again and the tears are back in his eyes. Shiro loves him _that_ much. “That’s right.” Shiro’s lips are right against his pulse point. His breath is searing hot but his lips are tender as he speaks against Lance’s skin. “I’ve got you, my precious boy. My cherished one.”

And got him he does; Lance had never felt more secure. He physically feels the weights of worlds roll off his tired shoulders. He cries. “Daddy. Daddy. Daddy, I--” There is a heat coiling low in his gut.

Shiro hums. “Are you going to cum, baby?” The hand that was at his back slid around to the front to fist Lance’s semi-limp dick. It is with his real hand, the pad of his thumb is rough where it rubs against the underside of the head.

Lance keens. His hands wrap around Shiro’s shoulders, face burrowed in the meat of his own upper arm. Shiro’s hips buck up once, twice, and his hand moves with the thrusts and then Lance is spilling between them with a broken, “Daddy! D-Daddy!” 

Red and white flash behind his eyes. He is dizzy and he had his own skin between his teeth as he screws his eyes shut and rides out the waves of his orgasm.

Shiro is still beneath him. His robotic arm has trailed up to weave fingers in Lance’s hair, holding the boy against him. “Good boy,” he purrs. “That’s it. My good boy. God, I love you.”

Lance sniffles. The shaking slowly leaves his body. He lifts his head. In his haze, he hadn’t realized Shiro had finished too; the man hadn’t shown any signs of painting his insides with heat. As he shifted, he could feel it. And this brought him an odd sort of comfort.

Shiro was watching him, pupils blown. His hand splays against Lance’s stomach, perhaps sensing his own warmth, the warmth that Lance feels. Slowly, his hand travels up. His fingers run over soft muscles, they slip into the divots of Lance’s ribs. It is tender and sensual and had Lance biting his lip all over again. Shiro’s eyes catch onto this nervous tick. The hand in his hair curls, metal scratching his scalp ever so lightly.

His tears have dried. His fear and insecurities have left. He is with his safe holding. Shiro plants a kiss between his eyes, then another two on his high cheekbones and lastly, one on his lips, a long and drawn out one. When he pulls back, Lance’s mouth has morphed into a pliant grin. Shiro mirrors his smile. “How was that, angel?”

Lance nods dumbly. His hands thread themselves into the short hairs at the sides of Shiro’s head. He thinks Shiro needs a haircut. Words have left him.

But Shiro understands. Shiro, who knows him as well as he knows himself, understand that it was good, that is was perfect, that it was exactly what Lance needed without him having to utter a word. Shiro presses another kiss into the Lance’s forehead.

The boy is slipping. He is so tired. Shiro lays him down, slips out and away long enough to collect a warm rag and cleans him with it. 

And then they lay, face to face, under soft sheets. Lance traces patterns into Shiro’s chest, Altean letters that he’s learned. Shiro doesn't keep up with what he’s writing. He brushes a hand through Lance’s hair and watches as the boy, for the first time in a long time, falls into a peaceful, dreamless, undisturbed slumber.


End file.
